


The Cold Gotham Air & A Good Mister Wayne

by Lonewritersclub



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Joker (2019)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Arthur is stranded, Gotham City - Freeform, Nice mister Wayne, Open to Interpretation, The Wayne Manor, inside his mind and body
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-16
Updated: 2019-12-16
Packaged: 2021-02-24 16:21:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21820849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lonewritersclub/pseuds/Lonewritersclub
Summary: Arthur's stuck in the bad part of Gotham but the night turns even sourer when he bumps into a certain handsome rich looking man by the Amusement Mile Bridge.// Very open-plot story so have a field-day reading this and making out your own decisions about it.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 33





	The Cold Gotham Air & A Good Mister Wayne

**The Cold Gotham Air & A Good Mister Wayne**

The air is cool against Arthur’s skin. Of which too much is exposed.

He lost his jacket somewhere along the way. He can’t remember where. Only that it’s gone now and he’s very cold.

The sun has long set behind the city skyline. Arthur is stranded in the bad part of Gotham. No buses or trains go around here at this time of night.

It’s going to be a long walk home. Will take him at least three hours if not more. That is, if he ever gets that far. The people he might meet on the way might slow him down.

Most likely they’ll stop him right on his way.

Arthur doesn’t have any money on him. Well, a few not-so-shiny nickels but that won’t satisfy any thief he might happen to cross roads with.

There’s a slimy looking phone booth not that far from where he’s standing by a run-down café. He could call a cab and then make a run for it once he gets near enough his home.

Arthur tries it. Rolls in the last money he has on him into the little metal slot and waits as the phone rings once, twice… five times and then a man picks up on the other end.

“Hailey’s Cabs, how can I help you?”

It’s a question but it doesn’t sound like one. It’s bored and tired and not interested in Arthur’s answer whatsoever.

“Uh… hi, um. I need a cab to drive me to Gotham Heights if that’s possible”, Arthur mutters shyly into the smelly receiver. The line is a bit fuzzy. The man’s voice sounds like TV-static.

“That can be done. Where you need picking up from?”

“Uh… Burnside. Twenty-fourth street, please.”

“Twenty-fourth street, Burns…-“

There’s a pause. Of what, Arthur’s nervous about.

“You said _Burnside_?”

Arthur audibly gulps. He holds the dirty receiver in his hand very gingerly against his ear but not quite touching the skin.

“Yeah…” he hesitantly replies back.

The receiver end laughs long and heartily. The man sounds to be enjoying the response.

“Hahah! Oh no, man. Na, na, na… Ain’t _no one_ gonna fall for that shit. If you in Burnside, you stay in Burnside. God knows you guys ain’t got _nothing_ but meth and STDs. Try again next time once you actually got the cash and ain’t on a robbing streak across town.”

Then as soon as the man has stopped chuckling, the line breaks and Arthur is left listening to the frizzy dial tone beep. He is forced to place the phone back in its little holding device and leave the phone booth.

In a way, the man was right of course but still. What is he supposed to do now?

There’s only one option really and he’d better start on it now before the gangs really start wandering the streets looking for someone to mangle and kill or rob of all of their dignity.

Arthur begins his long walk home but decides to take the route through Wayne Manor premises as then he won’t have to walk through all the bad neighbourhoods just to get to the bridge to Gotham City. The only problem with this option is that he’s got a restraining order from the Wayne’s to stay at least four miles away from their property.

But all Arthur really needs to do is just to be quick when passing the manor and hope that he doesn’t bump into any patrolling officers along the way. Truly, this day has gone on long enough, Arthur really doesn’t needs to be hauled into jail at this point too, or at any point really. It would only result in a one-way ticket back to Arkham Asylum and Arthur’s really fed up with that place. The doctors aren’t very nice to him there.

After ten miles of walking in the chilly Gotham air, Arthur is trudging by the tall iron fences of Wayne Manor. The tall branches of the old trees hang over them, towering over Arthur with their shadows licking the asphalt under the shine of the yellow streetlamps. Surprisingly, Arthur feels most safe here where he’s not really supposed to be in. But this is a good neighbourhood after all, mostly taken up by the Wayne Manor so of course it’s safe and secure here. Just not really safe for him.

He’s the only one up at this hour, though, it seems. No police or passers-by in sights, for miles now. Burnside was Arthur’s only real trouble to get through. Junkies and prostitutes alike harassed him but the blood dripping down his chin from much earlier kept them somewhat at bay.

He can see the bridge now though. But no, wait. That doesn’t look right.

 _Oh_ _dear_.

Arthur had already walked past his turn to the Trigate Bridge. He got distracted by the beautiful clean surroundings of Bristol and ended up next to the short, dim lighted bridge to Amusement Mile. Guess he’s taking the long road back then after all.

But first, Arthur slides down the sturdy fence just to sit on the low sidewalk for a while. His feet are aching in his worn-out shoes and he’s absolutely starved. He can barely keep his eyes open: only the cold is keeping him awake at this point. But maybe he could close them just for a couple of seconds in order to gather his strength a bit. Just for a little while until he feels like he can start walking again.

The next thing Arthur knows is somebody shaking him by the shoulder. He startles up to his feet in no time at all despite the blood having nearly frozen inside his veins, making the movement undoubtedly an awkward looking stumble. Arthur has completely forgotten where he is, and even who he is, for a minute before recognizing that the dead of the night has now turned into the soft orange of the morning spaying across the sparklingly spotless sidewalk and there’s a tall, dark and handsome man standing in front of him looking very concerned and very wealthy. 

“I’m sorry to bother you, sir but… are you alright there? You look rather cold.”

The voice on the man is like rich molten sugar, deep and soft but like there’s a bit of grit underneath the all the sweetness. His face attached to the voice looks familiar but Arthur cannot quite put his finger on it. His brain feels like it’s working on a low tone frequency due to the temperature. He can barely move his congealed lips to answer him. 

“Uh, thanks b-but I’m fine. S-sorry.”

Arthur makes a move to step towards the other direction: he can take other bridge instead, just so that he doesn’t have to face the worried looking man again. The embarrassment is at least warming up his cheeks a bit.

“Excuse me, sir!” the man interjects and Arthur turns around slightly. Did he drop something? It’s not his knife, is it?!

The man holds his arm out to him but his leather-gloved palm is open.

“If I may ask, where are you heading, sir? Maybe I could give you a lift?”

Arthur stands frozen in his spot, both literally and metaphorically, feeling utterly flabbergasted by the offer to say at least. Who is this man with kindness beyond reality?

What’s his motive?

“Thank you, that’s very kind of you but there’s no need for you to do that. I can walk”, Arthur says and smiles a little. But as he does so, he can feel something stretching and cracking against his skin.

Oh no. The _blood_.

The man looks ever-more worried as Arthur lifts up a tentative hand to his mouth and feels the dried up blood flake off against his bluish fingers. He laughs uncomfortably at the man.

“Oh… ah this is nothing. Nothing to worry about. There was just these guys, I don’t know what they wanted but they jumped me as I was leaving a friend’s house here in Bristol. Funny how close the bad side of town is to the good side, heh? But that’s Gotham.”

The handsome man looks uneasy now, too. If not even a bit angry. Oh, he can definitely tell Arthur’s not one of the good guys, either, can’t he? Oh dear…

“Well, I’d better get going then. Thanks for uh waking me up”, Arthur says hurriedly and continues on his way again.

“You should report them to the police. If you can remember their faces. I’m good friends with the Commissioner, I can help you”, the man says, interrupting Arthur once again.

What’s with this guy and wanting to help Arthur so bad? He got built-up guilt in his chest and needing to right his wrongs by giving his fine-looking hand to random strangers?

This guy can’t be any good, not to mention he’s friends with cops. There’s no way in Hell Arthur can make a police report on anybody. Besides, it was a straight up lie he told the man! As if Arthur knew a damn squirrel who lived in Bristol.

But Arthur’s curious and that part of him has always managed to get the better of him. His got his eyebrows knitted together as he takes a proper look at the man still standing in front of him, sturdy and mighty in his dark grey woollen overcoat and fancy leather shoes.

“Who are you?”

The man smiles at him a bit shyly.

“I’m Bruce Wayne. Also it’s fifteen degrees out here and I can see that you’re hurt and cold. I want to give you a ride home. And if you don’t mind, maybe you could first come in for a while to have something warm to drink. I live right around the corner.”

Arthur visibly halts up inside his mind, mouth going dry and eyes widening up.

Oh dear _God_ …

“I’m sorry b-but I really gotta go. I gotta go…”

This time around as Arthur turns around on his heels away from the man, he _runs_. 

**Author's Note:**

> Hi y'all. Don't know anyone ends up reading this fic but I just needed to write something just to get back into the hang of it. Soon I'll be updating on my Batman's dick fic so no worries but this is just something my mind came up with at whatever o'clock.   
> Either way, happy holidays guys, remember to keep warm unlike Arthur here :)


End file.
